Shadow of the Vampire
by Starslug
Summary: A small Romanian town is being terrorized by vampires, and the team is sent to help. A stand-alone adventure, in the style of Team Atlantis. Certified 100% free from angsty, story-eclipsing vampire OC's. Suitable for those allergic to sparkles.
1. Chapter 1

_Well, this is my second "Team Atlantis-style" story. Hopefully, this means I'm getting better at it, and not that I'm just running out of ideas. _

_This story is a stand-alone adventure: hopefully if you enjoy it, you'll also like my other Atlantis fic, but it's by no means compulsory reading. I'm aiming to make my stories like the Team Atlantis Saturday-Morning-Cartoon that never was: enjoyable in any order, and possibly best enjoyed when you're in your pyjamas, eating sugary cereal. _

_I promised vampires. Here they are._

_(Disclaimer: There are no hot, angsty, plot-eclipsing vampire OC's waiting to remove Milo's clothing with their teeth. Fear not. It's not going to be that scary...)_

**Shadow of the Vampire**

**Chapter 1: Night Flight**

The inside of the metal flying machine was warm and dimly-lit, the night sky dark against the little windows. Kida pressed her nose to the cold glass, looking out into the darkness. They were over land now, myriad little lights burning below, the machine swooping inland from the black and featureless sea. Kida wondered, looking out at the dull metal wing of the craft, quite how it flew without the aid of a crystal. She had asked Audrey once. The explanation had involved several hastily drawn diagrams, a few imaginative hand gestures, and the creative use of a wrench and a salt-shaker. Flight, Kida had concluded, was complicated.

Audrey was at the controls now, working away at the levers and buttons. Her and Vinny had taken it in turns to fly and sleep throughout the night, switching shortly before they had reached land. Now, he snored in the seat behind her, his head resting against the window, his feet propped up on the other seat, the match that he constantly chewed stashed safely behind his ear. His moustache moved rhythmically in time with his snoring.

Beneath Vinny's seat, his chubby body firmly wedged under, lay Mole, although it was hard to tell: he had cocooned himself in a blanket, only his huge, mud-encrusted boots poking out. He had been like that since take-off, curled up in a gibbering heap, refusing to move "until we are back on ze good, solid ground". Occasionally, a faint whimper came from the grubby heap.

Besides her, snoring softly, was Milo. Her Milo. A book was still open on his lap, and his head had fallen ever so slightly forwards over it, his body swaying softly with the motion of machine. His soft chestnut hair had fallen down in a curtain over his huge glasses, his long, thin hands still gripping the pages. It wasn't the first time she had seen him dozing over a book: he was always seeking knowledge, pouring over his vast collection of books, insisting on staying up "just five more minutes" to finish off an interesting chapter. For someone who wasn't even half a century old, his knowledge astounded her.

She peered down at the pages, the words peeking out between his skinny fingers. Mr. Whitmore was sending them to a place called "Romania". There had been a problem with some strange creatures known as "vampires", creatures which Milo had been researching ever since they'd been given the briefing. From what he'd told her, and from the reactions of the others, it seemed that these vampires were similar to some of the blood-drinking spirits of Atlantean legend. And some of the blood-drinking creatures of Atlantean reality.

The flying machine gave a faint shudder, and tilted slightly. There was a muffled squeak from behind her. She peered out of the window. Yes, the machine was flying lower now, the bright lights below coming closer, the faint shapes of fields and houses becoming visible in the gloom.

"Hey, wake up back there." Audrey shouted from the cockpit. "We're coming in to land. Shake a leg. I didn't fly you all here to sleep."

Kida nodded, and gently shook Milo's shoulder.

* * *

When the horrible shaking had stopped, and he had fully convinced himself that they weren't plummeting to their deaths, Mole finally let himself uncurl from his huddled little ball. He prised his shaking hands from his head, and poked his face out from under the blanket. Yes, it seemed like the infernal flying contraption had stopped. The floor he was lying on already seemed to feel safer, more stable, now it was touching land.

Shuffling, scraping his back against the underside of the chair, he squeezed himself out, and wobbled to his feet. Around him, the rest of the team were yawning into life, stretching their legs, and reaching for their luggage. How could they be so nonchalant? How could they relax enough to sleep, when they were hurtling through the air in a flimsy metal cage, suspended miles above the sweet, solid earth? How could they sit, stretched out in chairs, when obviously the only safe place to be was under them, with your eyes closed, praying quietly and trying to pretend that you were safe on the ground?

He sighed, and retrieved his stuffed toy mole from under the chair, hugging it close. Clearly, his friends were some very strange people.

"I've set her down in a field, not too far from the town." Said Audrey, coming in from the cockpit, stretching her arms out and yawning. "Shouldn't take us more than 5, 10 minutes at most to get there."

Milo nodded, fumbling to fit a large book back into his luggage. Beneath his chair, Obby uncurled, the fat purple lava dog yawning, his huge pink tongue lolling out.

"Right. Brilliant. Is everyone awake?"

"No." Grunted Vinny.

"Good to hear it." Milo finally succeeded in cramming the book inside, the hard corner tearing out the other side of the bag. He peered at it, and sighed. "Everyone got their luggage? We should get a start before it gets too late. We don't want our hosts waiting up for us."

Mole nodded.

"And we do not want to be out in ze dark when zhere are vampires around!"

Audrey smirked, shouldering her bag.

"Don't worry, Mole. If any of them bite you, they won't get far before they die of food poisoning."

"Well, zhat is comforting… Wait a moment. What are you implying?"

"I'm just saying, I think vampires prefer blood, rather than a thin soup of mud and cream filling…"

Milo stood up hurridly, cutting off Mole's reply.

"Good grief, look at the time! We should get going!"

Mole cast one last glower at Audrey, before picking up his bag, and making his way down the stairs of the plane, night air and soft drizzle cold on his few areas of exposed skin. His feet connected with the soft, slightly slippery mud of the field, and he let out a little groan of joy as his boots sank up to the ankles. From the sticky way the mud clung to him, and the soft squelch it made as they began to trudge across the field, it was predominately clay-based, with high cohesion and low drainage, rich in sediment washed down from the Carpathian Mountains. He would have to take a nice big sample before they left.

Above, there was a vivid flash, as white lightning streaked across the sky. A few seconds later, there was the deep, rumbling boom of thunder. Obby gave a whine, and huddled close to Milo, almost knocking him over. Mole wondered, vaguely, why a creature born to withstand the crushing heat of molten rock would fear the thunder. Perhaps, he mused, when you lived deep in the churning volcanic bowels of the earth, it was only natural to develop a healthy fear of sudden flashes and rumbling noises. Above, the sky flashed again, and fat raindrops bounced off his headgear, his goggles becoming foggy. The air was filled with the sweet, sweet smell of wet sediment.

The lights of the village were close now, the mud giving way to rain-slick cobblestones of glossy Devonian limestone. Behind him, Mole heard Vinny grunt.

"Great. I think my shoes are more mud than shoe."

"Delightful, isn't it? Ze sediments of ze Transylvanian Basin have been around since ze Quatenary Period!"

"Eh, sure. Delightful."

By now, Milo had reached the door to a large, timbered house, and was peering up at the structure.

"Er, I think this is the place." He said.

"Then hurry up and knock." Audrey pushed past Mole, and huddled under the eaves. "Rains getting into places rain shouldn't get."

"Alright. Here goes."

He gently rapped his knuckles against the door. Audrey sighed, sidled over, and gave it a hard hammering with her fist.

"Er…thanks Audrey."

The door creaked inwards, the rich, pungent smell of garlic hitting Mole's nose, bringing back a warm wave of nostalgia. He squinted up into the light, his eyes struggling to adjust. Silhouetted in the door, against the chink of firelight, was the vague shape of a woman.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Her voice carried a trace of panic.

"We're friends of Mr. Whitmore." Said Milo, peering through the chink. "He sent us because of the, er, vampire problem."

"What is the code word?"

"Er… porpoise."

Her face softened into a relieved smile.

"Please, forgive my caution." She said, opening the door to them. "They are everywhere. They will do anything to get inside, take any shape. Come inside, quickly."

They hurriedly scuttled inside. A warm fire roared in the grate, and from the ceiling hung garlands of flowers, thorns, and sweet dried garlic. If he shut his eyes for a moment, Mole could almost imagine he was back in his mother's kitchen, sorting his rock collection at the kitchen table as she fussed over a huge pot of something steamy and herb-filled.

"Garlic, hawthorn and wild roses." Milo's voice jolted him out of happy memories. "All classic wards against vampires."

Their host nodded.

"Indeed. None of the undead can bear the smell. It won't keep out a truly determined vampire, sadly, or else we wouldn't have need of you. But it helps to keep them at bay for a while, at least."

"Wow. I mean, this is just like in the books I've read. There's a lot of conflicting advice, about holy water, and silver, and grave-dirt, and sunlight. But the garlic and hawthorn charm works? That's incredible! These vampires must have a wonderful sense of smell."

"Yes they do. You are right that there are many conflicting myths, some totally false, some with a grain of truth. I will tell you all you wish to know shortly. But first, you must be tired and hungry. My daughter and I have eaten already, I'm afraid, but we have put some aside for you." She smiled, and extended a hand. "Mariana Vaduva."

"Milo Thatch. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Vaduva."

"If you can help end this blood-sucking plague, then the pleasure is all mine."

She gave a faint smile, then turned and called up the stairs.

"Silvia! Silvia dear, come and show our guests to the dining room."

There was a faint creak from above, then a soft voice called down.

"Coming mother!"

The creaks increased in volume, as Silvia came down the stairs. Mole cast a glance up, from where he had been examining the dirt caked to his boots.

He blinked.

Something skipped a beat inside.

She…she was beautiful. That fact hit him like a blunt object, before he even had time to register what she looked like. He simply knew, the instant that he set eyes on her, that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, more beautiful than a freshly-dug hole, or a pile of finely grained soil. Now the initial haze was wearing off, he could see that she looked very little like her thin, tall, dark-haired mother: she was short, curvaceous, her hair sparkling like finest rutilated quartz, her skin white as marble, or possibly howlite, lips red as iron ore. He barely felt Audrey's elbow jab into his ribs.

"Mole! Your tongue's supposed to stay inside your mouth!" She hissed.

He didn't hear, or particularly care. She was coming closer, stepping down from the stairs, bringing with her the earthy tang of soil. Was…was that dirt caked under her fingernails, staining the soles of her bare feet? Yes, yes it was, a thick loam entirely uncharacteristic of the area, glittering with mica inclusions. _Mon dieu_, she must have a soil collection too!

"Ah, Silvia." He was jolted out of his thoughts as she glided over to her mother. "If you'd be so good as to take our guests through to their seats. And do wash your hands before serving them, dear." A little laugh. "Not everyone shares your passion for gardening."

"Yes mother. Gardening."

"Eh, don't be too hasty." Said Vinny. "I once grew a petunia, must have been at least this big…"

"I also enjoy gardening! Mainly ze digging. …I am very good at it. Perhaps I can dig for you? Do you need a hole?"

Mrs. Vaduva sighed.

"That will not be necessary. Now. Follow Silvia. I will heat up your supper."


	2. Chapter 2

** Chapter 2: Cross referencing**

Audrey had thought she'd been hungry right up to the minute dinner had been served. Now, poking her meal around her plate, she wasn't so sure. Oh, of course, it was nothing like the horrific slop Cookie had served up, a lumpy orange mush she refused to believe had once been beans. But it was still disappointing to expect something delicious and get…this.

The slices of meat…possibly beef, possibly lamb, at this point it was hard to tell, had been cooked until they were dry, hard slabs. The overdone meat was in stark contrast to the distressingly crunchy potatoes, and woody broccoli. The entire, disturbingly generous portion was topped off with a thin gravy, one that lacked any taste except for the overpowering bitterness of garlic.

She sighed, and broke off a chunk of possibly-beef. Across the table, Kida also wore an expression of faint horror, as she attempted to saw through a potato. Next to her, Milo was too busy talking to Mrs. Vaduva to pay much attention to what was going into his mouth. Unsuprisingly, Mole was devouring his portion with the grace and restraint of a starved animal, although somewhat unusually, he seemed to have decided to use the cutlery this time. As for Vinny…he was making a surprisingly valiant effort to pretend that meat was supposed to have the consistency of plywood.

She sighed again, and tried mashing her bullet-like potatoes into the garlic sauce. Normally, Obby would be scampering around the table, looking for leftovers, or curled under Milo's chair. At the very least, he'd be curled up in the fire, toasting himself, and eventually leaving ashy footprints everywhere. Now, however, he was sat at the foot of Silvia's chair, gazing up at her with brainless adoration. Audrey gave it about five minutes before Mole did the same.

She snorted. Simple minds must think alike.

Across the table from her, Vinny pushed his plate away, and gave a mock sigh of contentment.

"Well. I'm stuffed."

Silvia peered at his plate.

"But you've left most of it!" Her voice rang with indignation.

"I, er, have a medical condition. Stomach the size of a golf ball."

Mrs. Vaduva leant over and placed a hand on her daughters shoulder.

"Now child. Don't fuss. It's late: perhaps our guests do not have much of an appetite."

At these words, there was an almost audible sigh of relief, and the shuffling of bowls.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm kinda full too." Said Audrey.

"I am also satisfied." Kida set her cutlery down.

"Me too." Milo joined her.

Silvia stood up and sighed loudly.

"Fine. I'll take your plates."

Mole looked up from the plate he was currently licking clean.

"I will help you, mademoiselle!"

"Fine. Come on then."

There was a clattering as the two of them began to clear the table. Audrey handed her bowl over, and relaxed back in her chair, hoping dearly that there was no desert.

"So, what made you send for us?" She asked, after a moment. "I mean, obviously vampires and all. But why us?"

Mrs. Vaduva smiled softly. Behind her, Silvia strode out to the kitchen, holding a single small dish. Mole tailed her like an affection-starved puppy, teetering under a pile of crockery.

"My family have been contacts for Mr. Whitmore for many years now. We're his eyes and ears out in Romania." A fond little sigh. "Ah, I've got such good memories of the old coot. He was always sending us to talk to people, to source various artefacts. When this problem started, my first thought was him. I knew he'd be able to send someone who knew what they were doing."

From the kitchen came the sound of clattering plates.

"Alright. You can wash. I'll dry." Silvia's voice came filtering out. There was a pause. "Well? What's wrong? It's just soapy water. You're not afraid of soapy water, are you?"

"…Non. Not at all. It will be a pleasure." His voice came out slightly strained.

"Alright. …I'm waiting."

There was a soft splashing noise, followed by a scream.

"_Mon dieu!_ It burns!"

Mrs. Vaduva pushed her chair back, and got to her feet.

"Perhaps we should retire to the living room?"

* * *

The fire crackled in the grate, the shadows dancing up the walls. Milo sat back into the softness of the sofa, feeling the faint, reassuring weight of Kida sitting beside him. Across from him sat Mrs. Vaduva, her skinny body folded up in the chair.

"So." He said, leaning forwards. "This is amazing! Real vampires!" He caught the expression on her face, and stifled his enthusiasm. "I…I mean obviously it's awful. Really terrible. But interesting. From a purely academic point of view, I mean."

"Yes… I hear you are something of an expert on the…paranormal, I suppose."

Milo averted his eyes, looking down at the floor, and fiddling with the book on his lap.

"That's flattering, but it's only an amateur interest, really. I mean, I suppose I've had a bit more experience than most. But not with this sort of thing. Not with vampires." He flipped his book open. "There's so much conflicting information, about strengths and weaknesses. I mean, now we know that the garlic and hawthorn garlands work, but no two sources can agree if they can cross running water, for example."

"They can."

"Really? Interesting. Holy symbols?"

"They'll repel them, like the garlic, but won't keep them away entirely."

"Holy water?"

"It burns them, yes."

"Invitations?"

"They don't need them to enter a house. If they did, we wouldn't need the garlic."

"Silver?"

"Effective, but consecrated silver is better."

"Stakes? Decapitation? Fire?"

"Those work for everything, not just vampires.

"Point taken. Sunlight?"

"It won't kill them, at least not immediately, but they are powerless in the sunlight. It must be sunlight, though. Candlelight or electric light does nothing."

"Oh. We had Audrey rig up some special lamps…"

"I doubt they will work."

"Oh. That's a shame. …Do they sleep in coffins?"

"Yes. But to rest properly, they must sleep in a thick layer of soil, taken from their native country."

Mole shuffled in from the kitchen.

"Yes, but zhat is true for everybody." He looked up at a row of puzzled stares. "…Isn't it?"

Vinny leant back in his chair.

"Well, I think we should be all set." He reached into his jumper, and from somewhere inside produced a small, round bomb. "I mixed up a load of these little babies before we left. They've got silver filings, silver nitrate, garlic, holy water, holy nitro-glycerine…oh, and gunpowder. Lots of gunpowder."

Mrs. Vaduva flinched back.

"Er, and we also have some non-explosive weapons, too." Milo added. "Stakes and stuff. So… How about their supernatural powers? Can they shapeshift into bats or wolves?"

"No. Not that I know of. But they can dominate the minds of animals, and control them."

"Can they fly?"

"No."

"Turn into smoke?"

"No."

"Are they strong?"

"Terribly."

"What about their bite? Can they turn humans into more of themselves?"

"Yes, if they choose to. It's not common. They don't enjoy competition."

Milo nodded. Across the room, Vinny was idly throwing the little bomb in the air and catching it again.

Mrs. Vaduva leant forwards.

"Will you come with me for a moment, Milo? I have some books on the subject that you might be interested in."

"Alright." He turned to Kida, and gently squeezed her hand. "I'll be back in a minute."

She nodded. Milo got to his feet, and followed Mrs. Vaduva out of the living room, and down the corridor. The warm wooden floor creaked softly under his feet, as she led him to a small study that smelt of dust and leather. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of row upon row of books.

"Wow…"

"You like them? They're just a small part of my collection, really." Her fingers traced along the dusty spines, before coming to rest on a thick volume bound in green leather. "Ah, here we go. This should prove enlightening."

"Thank you, Mrs. Vaduva."

"Please, call me Mariana." She handed him the book, his arms sagging a little with the weight of it. "So tell me, Milo. What are your plans?"

"Well, I want us to get an early start tomorrow. We'll scout out the house in the mountains, the one you think the problem is coming from. If what you say is true, we'll be safe in the daylight. We'll see if there are vampires there, and we'll see if we can negotiate first. Then, if we can't…well, we came prepared to eliminate them."

"Negotiate?" Her voice rang with incredulity. "Mr. Thatch, you honestly think you can negotiate with these…things. Let me tell you this, Milo: you're not dealing with people anymore. You know what vampires are? They are the corpses of the dead, brought back by…by demons, and evil spirits. That's all they are. You can't negotiate with them. You can only send them back to where they came from."

She hung her head. A few tears bubbled up from her eyes.

"My husband tried talking to them. They…they can get inside your head, that's the scary part. They can make you think whatever they want you to think, and you won't even know it. He tried to talk to them, and got inside his head. He…he walked out of the house, right into their clutches. We couldn't stop him. He just walked out, and lay down in their arms, and they drained him dry." She looked up at Milo, mouth a quivering grimace, eyes puffy and streaming. "And the worst part? He was smiling. He was smiling as they killed him. So don't, don't you ever think that you can reason with these things, or negotiate with them, or save them. They're already dead. They will destroy you, and you will be smiling as you die. They will make you crave it."

Her voice broke down into quiet sobs, and she threw her arms around Milo's neck, holding him in an inescapable hug. He carefully slipped his arms around her, and hugged back, holding her as she jolted with restrained sobs.

"There there, Mrs. Vaduva. I mean Mariana."

"I…I'm sorry. I just want my daughter and I to be able to live in peace. I just want this plague gone. I wouldn't ask for help normally. I couldn't live with myself if any of you got hurt up there. But I'm at my wits end. We all are. We need your help."

"We'll do everything we can to help you, Mrs. Mariana." Said Milo, her grip vice-like around his chest. "I promise. We're well prepared, and we've all seen some pretty strange things in our time. If anyone can help, it's us."

"I hope so, Milo. I truly hope so." She released him, and straightened up, with a forced smile. "Now, you're probably all exhausted. I should show you to your beds."


	3. Chapter 3

The morning had broken, dim and cold. The light coming down from the bruised and cloudy sky was faint and directionless, and still somehow seemed all too bright on Audrey's tired eyes. Oh, sure, it had been a good night's sleep: the Vaduva's had put them all up in a single room, Milo and Kida sharing one bunk-bed, her and Vinny sharing another. Mole and Obby had curled up on a spare mattress on the floor. She had been tired, tired in the mental and physical way you only got from flying a large hunk of metal for hundreds of miles. Despite her growing apprehension about what they would face in the morning, and the lump that was Vinny snoring in the bunk above her, she had drifted off almost instantly into a deep and dreamless sleep. It seemed, looking back, like only minutes had passed between shutting her eyes and Silvia barging into the room to wake them all up.

Now, reluctantly wide awake, with a disappointingly charred breakfast inside her, she was trudging up what seemed to be a never-ending dirt track, her face chilled by the cold, her skin starting to sweat beneath her overalls. Below, the little village was silent and shuttered. It hadn't stirred at all as the Vaduva's had waved them off and wished them good luck, not a single soul to be seen outside the heavily barred doors.

"What is it with us and warm welcomes?" Vinny had quipped. Frankly, Audrey couldn't have cared less: the fewer people she had to talk to at this time of the morning, the better. Still, it hadn't exactly made for the most optimistic start. She still wasn't sure what daunted her more: the prospect of vampires, or the fact that said vampires happened to live at the top of what seemed like a small mountain, dirt tracks giving way to frosted forest.

Ahead, Milo and Kida were talking. Rather, Milo was rambling excitedly as Kida listened, Obby scuttling along at their heels.

"...Of course, most cultures have a vampire myth, some sort of blood-sucking, nocturnal monster. The Malaysians, for example, have the Penanggalan, a terrifying creature that feeds on the blood of unborn babies. By day, she's a normal woman, but by night, her head floats clean off of her body..." Here, he mimed yanking off his own head with surprising enthusiasm. "...Taking all her intestines and organs with it. Then she hides the hollow shell somewhere safe, before floating off to feed. Now, in some Roma myths, it's widely believed that even watermelons can become vampires..."

Audrey tuned out. Ahead, the dirt trail led into the outskirts of a thick forest, the track becoming thicker with mud and leaf-litter, branches reaching stark and black against the white sky, twisting like wires. The ground beneath her feet sparkled with frost, the churned mud of the path frozen into jagged shapes. She felt, once again, inside her overalls. Yes. They were still there, the silver-tipped stake, the bulb of garlic, and the little spritzer bottle of holy water. She felt around her neck. Yes, the little cross was still hanging around her neck, the chain a chafing and unfamiliar presence. It had belonged to her mother, long ago, and had sat in her bedside drawer at home, nestled amongst other cherished but unworn trinkets. What was the point of wearing jewellery, really? She'd only get it caught on something, and then either the jewellery or her own skin would get damaged. Far better to keep it safe back home, unless she needed it.

"...Of course, up until now, the vampire myth was blamed on superstitious locals not understanding how infectious diseases spread." Milo still hadn't stopped talking, she noticed, surfacing from her thoughts. "Someone in the family would get sick and die, and the family would bury them. But then one of the family would start to show symptoms, start wasting away. If you didn't understand how diseases spread, you'd be forgiven for thinking that the dead family member was coming back, sucking the life out of the living. Of course this, this blows that old theory out of the water! What if all of those vampire myths are true? What is there aren't just European vampires, but Penanggalans, Polongs, Pelesits, Muronys, even Yara-ma-yha-whos? This could be a whole new field of study!"

Vinny, trudging along stoically, looked over to Milo.

"If all those are running about out there, it's a wonder there's any untapped necks left."

From deep within the dark, dense woods, there came a low, mournful howl. Despite herself, Audrey felt her heart skip slightly.

"Wolves?" She said, keeping her voice level, almost flippant. "They didn't say there'd be wolves!"

"Relax." Said Milo, as the group unconsciously huddled closer together. "Wolves are native to this region, yes, but they're unlikely to be dangerous. Most wolf attacks are in times of extreme famine, and even then, they're more likely to go for livestock first."

"Nobody do any farmyard impressions." Said Vinny, still eyeing the forest cautiously.

"Honestly, they're probably far more scared of us than we are of them." Said Milo. "They'll probably just give us a wide berth, and let us pass through with no problem."

There was a moment of tense silence. Then, still quiet, they began walking again, warm breath rising as fog, the beat of their footsteps loud on the frozen earth. Audrey couldn't help but notice how deep they were into the woods now, how the trees closed over them, how either side of the path the bare avenues of trees stretched on into darkness. Dark branches no longer stretched against the sky: they blotted it out in a dark, tangled knot. She was suddenly aware of her heart, pulsing away under her ribs, of her rapid breathing venting out like exhaust into the cold air.

Then another howl tore through the woods. Close.

The group stopped silent in fear. Footsteps, however, continued. A multitude of soft footsteps, crunching on leaf litter, snapping twigs underfoot. Now her heart revved like an engine, her eyes scanning the woods. There they were. Rangy grey shapes unfolding themselves from the darkness, pink tongues lolling, teeth glinting. Her throat tightened. They were surrounded, trapped within a circle of grey-brown fur and yellow eyes. Eyes that bored into them with an almost unnatural intensity. From deep within one of the creatures throats came a low, rumbling growl.

"D-don't move." Milo hissed. "We've probably just stepped into their territory. Just move slowly. Don't run. We're, we're probably just passing too close to their territory, that's all."

The growling intensified. Ears flattened against skulls. Lips wrinkled back from teeth.

"Milo, I don't think they've been reading the same books as you!" She hissed.

Now the wolves were advancing, so close that the smell of wet dog and meat rotting between teeth were sharp on Audrey's nose. Jaws opened. Those yellow eyes stared. Muscles coiled, legs poised to spring.

"This isn't right..." She heard Milo say, her eyes still locked on the steadily closing circle. "They shouldn't be behaving like this." Then there was a snarl from the pack, and Milo's eyes widened in terror. "...RUN!"

His screamed command broke the trance. They ran. Lithe grey bodies pounced. For a moment, the world was confusion, and hot breath, the group scattering in all directions. Audrey ran, feet pounding into the frozen ground, something snapping at her, tearing her sleeve. She was stumbling off the path, catching her boots on brambles, running into tangled darkness, the ground becoming steep and unsteady beneath her feet. Behind her was the sound of blunt claws pounding on fallen leaves, and the harsh rasp of breathing, and the thud of someone's heavy boots. There was no time to wonder who was running with her: the ground was sloping more steeply now, trees giving way to a barren slope of rocks and soil, her feet sliding wildly as she struggled to keep her balance. Every step sent a shower of pebbles skittering down the slope, threatening to take her with them. Behind her, the ragged breathing was louder, four light paws proving better at keeping their balance than two heavy boots.

She pushed on, as fast as she could go. Too fast. Beneath her feet, the soil crumbled, rocks tumbling free. She fell, tumbling down the slope, most of the slope tumbling with her in a cascade of earth and stone. There was a sharp squeal from one of the wolves, cut short and drowned out by the roar of falling rocks. The world was a whirl, her body crashing into rocks, her eyes and nose and mouth filling with dirt, her body flailing for something, anything that could stop her fall. Then a sharp pain exploded against the side of her head, and the confusion and noise was instantly turned to silence, and darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Audrey slowly came to her senses. Her head was throbbing, a sharp, insistent pain in the side of her skull, one that sent unearthly colours skittering across her eyes with every throb. Her mouth was filled with grit, and the sour earthy taste of soil. With a groan, she reached up to rub her aching head.

Or tried to. Her arms were pinned to her sides. She opened her eyes, and instantly regretted it, earth spilling in and stinging them. She gasped in pain, and inhaled a mouthful of soil, gagging and spluttering, trying desperately to move her hopelessly pinned body. She gasped for breath, more grit and dirt spilling in, her hands trapped and useless, unable to stop herself choking, every panicked breath drawing more soil into her mouth, clogging her nose. She gagged, her eyes, streaming, terror rising.

Then a huge, warm hand clapped itself over her mouth.

"Breathe slowly." She heard a voice command, through her panic.

The hand cupped itself, fingers slightly parted, forming a space between her mouth and the choking soil. She gasped the stale, earthy air, retching up grit into the palm of her rescuer's hand. As she worked to slow her breathing, she felt another hand moving in the earth around her, strong fingers easing her arms free from their confines.

"Zhat is it. Panicking will only make you inhale ze dirt, and use up ze air faster."

"Mole! It's you!" She exhaled a long sigh of relief into his palm. "I don't think I've even been so happy to hear that accent!"

"Well, French is ze language of love, after all. ...Now, hold still."

Audrey felt his huge, calloused fingers brush the soil from her eyes. She blinked them open, and was faced with the sight of Mole's face, grinning widely and inches from her own, something she never thought she would be so happy to see. Their narrow confines were illuminated by the light of his lamp, the bulb dim and flickering, its casing dented. One of his beady lenses had cracked.

"Zhere." He reached down, grabbing her by the wrist. "Put your hand over your mouth, like I have shown you. Yes, zhat is good. ...Have you been hurt?"

"Just a bit bruised. I'll live."

"Good, good. Zhen follow me."

He moved, his body sliding through the loose soil, flipping a folding pickaxe from his sleeve with a practised flick of the wrist, and working away at the soil above his head. The dirt cascaded down over him, his free hand alternately protecting his mouth and pushing the soil down past him, where his feet stamped it down. His stubby body worked upwards at a surprising speed, until his filthy boots were level with Audrey's face.

"Aha!"

Then cool white daylight came streaming down, bringing with it cold, fresh air. Mole's boots vanished. Then a dirty, gloved hand reached down, and grabbed Audrey by the straps of her overalls, helping her clamber stiffly out, both of them flopping down on the ground, panting with exhaustion. For a moment, Audrey was just happy to stare up at the bright white sky, and spit the last few grains of soil out. Then, as the tight panic inside her gave way to warm, floppy relief, she supposed thanks were in order.

"Th...thanks." She gasped. "Dunno what I would have done without you."

Mole shrugged, shuffling into a sitting position.

"Think nothing of it. It is not ze first time I have been buried alive. Why, if I was not so good at digging myself out, I would not have made it past ze age of...oh, around eight."

He twiddled with his broken lens, pulling out the cracked glass. For a moment, a tiny, beady eye squinted in the light. Then he reached into one of his pockets, pulling out a spare lens, and screwed it into place. He blinked a few times, then gave Audrey a contented smile.

"Besides," He said, letting a handful of soil run through his fingers. "What a wonderful opportunity to see zhese sediments up close!"

"Yeah." Said Audrey, blinking the last grains of grit out of her eyes. "Close." She eased herself up carefully. Her bruised body protested, and her head throbbed, but there didn't seem to be any lasting damage. Her thick overalls had taken the brunt of it. "You all okay?"

"Oui." Mole replied, sliding a replacement light-bulb into his headgear, and climbing to his feet. "It will take more zhan wolves and a landslide to get rid of Gaetan Moliere!"

"Great." She looked up the long, jagged slope, up into the looming forest." ...I hope we can say the same for the rest of them."

* * *

Soft paws padded on frosted earth. A sharp grey head sniffed the icy air, following the trail. The scent was strong, fresh. The scent led here, to the base of this tree. Golden eyes stared up the trunk, at the man squatting high amongst the branches. He smelled of fear, and sweat, and smoke. The wolf threw its paws against the bark of the tree, straining its snapping head upwards.

Something tumbled down. Something round, silvery. The wolf paused. Bent down. Sniffed it. It smelled of metal and chemicals and garlic. Smoke was pouring from one side of it, and...

_BOOM._

When the smoke had cleared, and the wolf had run back into the forest singed and whimpering, Vinny let himself breathe a faint sigh of relief, and slide down from the tree. There was a small crater in the ground, he noted with approval, with a lovely blast pattern unfolding like a chrysanthemum. The air was smoky and sweet with the aroma of gunpowder-roasted garlic.

He cast a glance around the tangled forest. There were no more wolves in sight. Unfortunately, there was also no more path in sight, just twisting and irregular avenues of trees. He breathed a sigh. Alright, what had Milo told them? The useful parts, not the ones about how some vampires were rumoured to strip off their skins, sprout turkey wings, and fly using flames spouting from their armpits. He'd mentioned that they were looking for a large, abandoned house, up in the mountains.

Up. Well, that was a start. The forest sloped steeply: all he had to do was keep on climbing until he reached the other end of the forest.

He looked up at the dark forest, stretching up before him.

Yeah. Just climb. That'd be easy.

* * *

Milo ran. He was good at running. He seemed to have been doing an awful lot of running lately, he noted. Twigs crunched beneath his feet as he went, Kida flying along beside him, Obby a blur of purple in the corner of his vision. Behind, countless paws skittered, countless mouths panted. No time to focus on that though. Ahead...Ahead loomed a dead-end, a jagged rock-face rising up out of the undergrowth. There was nothing for it, he realised, with a sinking in the pit of his stomach. Fight or flight. No way out.

He turned to face the advancing wolves. There, on the ground besides him. A thick branch. He grabbed it, just as the lead wolf pounced, swinging it with every ounce of strength he had. It connected, with the dull thump of wood on bone, sending the animal flying, nearly knocking Milo off balance. Beside him, he saw Kida go down, a lithe grey body pinning her to the floor. Before he could move to help her though, her boots slammed into its chest, the wolf rolling off her with a pained whine as she vaulted to her feet.

Then the third wolf sprang, knocking Milo off his feet, crushing him under its weight, all his strength devoted to holding its snapping jaws away from his face. He could see right down the creature's throat, smell the sweet decay on its breath, feel its heat and weight and matted coat pressing down on him. Then he saw a blur of purple, and suddenly the weight was lifted. He looked up. Obby had seized the wolf by the scruff of the neck, and was shaking it as though its huge body was weightless. With one final heave of his neck, the lava dog threw the wolf, its body crunching against a tree and falling crumpled and motionless.

Now he was upon the other wolf, tearing it away from Kida, jaws closing on its neck, teeth splintering through bone, crushing flesh. There was one short, strangled scream, followed by a squelching crunch that would remain a permanent feature in Milo's nightmares. Then Obby dropped the limp body, and faced the last wolf, pouncing upon it. Its teeth snapped uselessly at skin strong enough to withstand molten lava. Obby had no-such disadvantage. With one horrible whine of pain, the fight was well and truly over.

Milo carefully got to his feet. The lava dog, thick tail wagging, mouth stained crimson, came bounding gleefully over to him.

"G-good boy, Obby..." He managed to say.

"Milo! Are you alright?" Kida ran over to him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. How about you?"

"I am fine."

Obby had wandered back over to one of the wolves, and was staring down at it with an expression of puzzlement, as if wondering why his new playmate wouldn't get up, why it was leaking. He gave a low whine, and pawed at the creature's coat, wrinkling his nose at the spreading redness.

"Shh, boy." Milo said, laying a hand on his smooth purple back. "It's okay. They're...they're just not as resilient as you, that's all."

From behind, there came a low, pained whine. Milo turned. The wolf that Obby had thrown against a tree was getting unsteadily to its feet, shaking its head and blinking with confusion. It looked up at the group, at its fallen companions. The intense, unnatural look had gone from its eyes, replaced with the terror and confusion of an injured animal: with a whimper, it limped off into the forest as fast as it could manage.

"What now?" Said Kida, watching it go. "We have lost the others."

Milo scanned the dark forest. There was no sign of another human soul, no footsteps, no voices. Only twisted trees in every direction. Well. Time to make a decision.

"If we go looking for them, then there's no telling how lost we could get. I think we should keep heading upwards, try to find that house. They all know what we're searching for: hopefully we'll meet them there." Milo winced internally. "If not...then we should search. I...I don't want to leave anyone here come nightfall."

Kida nodded. Then, together, they braved the darkness of the forest again.

* * *

_I'm sorry: as if giving all these beloved characters a horrible disease in my last story wasn't enough, I've written a scene where sweet, cute little Obby crushes a wolf's spine... I promise the next chapter will not feature Milo chain-smoking and punching a nun._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Audrey dug her fingers into the sloping ground, pulling herself steadily upwards, arm over arm, feet scrabbling on the loose soil. It was hard work, but not something she was unaccustomed to doing: her job often had her clambering over all sorts of machinery. Besides, her pappy had never shied away from encouraging tomboyish pursuits of all kinds, climbing trees and rock-faces included. Her sister and her had spent many happy days, egging each other on to greater and riskier feats than they ever would have dared alone.

Beside her, Mole's heavy breathing was a constant, unnerving presence. Despite his short limbs and chubby physique, he was setting a rapid pace, scrambling ever upwards with a wide grin on his face. And there was no way, despite the ache in her arms, that Audrey was going to fall behind someone who barely came up to her shoulders and thought that the four food groups were igneous, sedimentary, metamorphic, and cream-filled.

Above, tantalisingly close, loomed the top of the slope, its margins sharp against the whiteness of the sky. Audrey put on a burst of speed, feeling a smug little twinge of pride as she managed to pull herself up a few seconds before Mole did. For a moment, she was reminded of her sister, and how back then, everything, no matter how trivial, had been a race. Back then, there would have been squabbles, protests that the other had cheated, suggestions that they go again and try for "best out of three", perhaps even a full-blown wrestling match. Now, it was just her and Mole catching their breath in silence.

"What a view." She panted, after a moment. Stretching below them lay the forest, the treetops beautiful and desolate, dark green arrowheads piercing the sky. Further on, the village was just a blur of boxy brown shapes. Further still, and the world faded away into mist.

Mole peered back over the edge.

"I prefer ze view from ze ground, myself." He said. Audrey saw his fingers tighten slightly, digging into the earth.

"Hey, Mole." She said, dangling her feet idly over the edge. "I thought you were afraid of heights. How come you can climb all the way up here, with no safety ropes or anything, but you don't trust me to fly a plane?"

"It is not ze heights, exactly. It is ze distance from ze ground. I am good at holding onto ze ground." He shuddered slightly. "But if zhat infernal metal contraption goes down, zhen zhere is nothing to hold onto. We all go smoosh."

"You're strange, you know that? Ah well, you needn't worry. You know how much work I put into tuning that beauty up? The last thing I'm gonna do is let us go smoosh." She smirked. "Can't speak for Vinny, though."

She got to her feet, and stretched out her stiff limbs, turning away from the panorama below.

She blinked.

"Hey Mole. D'you see that?"

He fumbled with his goggles, squinting upwards in the direction of her gaze.

"You mean ze house?"

Yes, there was no denying it: just a short distance ahead, squatting amid the craggy mountains, was a great mouldering old manor house, all crumbling stone and rotting beams.

"You reckon it's the one?"

Mole shrugged.

"I do not see any other old houses about."

Her heart began to hammer again. Her hand made the checks again: garlic, water, stake, cross. All there. Not that it made much difference to the tightness in her throat, the faint trembling in her limbs.

"Well." Her voice came out with a practised calm cockiness. "No time like the present."

Slowly, with reluctant footsteps, they made their way towards the crumbling house.

* * *

Slowly, wearily, Vinny pushed through the last few stands of undergrowth, frost flaking from the branches as he pushed them aside. He allowed himself a moment to catch his breath, pulling stray leaves and twigs from his hair, and brushing crystals of frost from his moustache. Well, his plan had worked, the forest giving way to craggy rock and bare soil, dotted here and there with sparse, weedy plants. And up ahead, looming down from those crags…

Vinny sighed. Of course it was the creepy old vampire house. Of course he'd found it first, alone, with nothing but a bag of powerful explosives for defence. That was just the way things went for him, it seemed.

He pressed on. Ah well. At least it was still light. Who knows, perhaps a few good booms would sort this whole mess out, and he'd be back in time for tea? There were few problems that couldn't be solved with careful application of bombs, after all.

Now he was picking his way over the crumbling remains of a stone wall, ploughing through the tangled mess that had once been a garden. Nettles grew up to his waist, jagged green leaves brushing against his thick jumper, making him grateful for his thick gauntlets as he pushed them aside. Brambles tangled around his legs, biting through the binding around his ankles and into his flesh as he stumbled forwards. Wild ivy and convolvulus snaked up the sides of the broken old house, suckers worming into the cracked stone. What a mess. Someone was clearly spending far too much time sucking on necks and not enough time doing the weeding, he decided.

Ahead loomed a great wooden door. The once sturdy wood had rotted and shrunk, and the iron bolts had rusted, staining the wood beneath with the colour of dried blood. In this sorry state, it creaked open easily under Vinny's hands, to his mild disappointment. Ah well. As satisfying as blasting it open would have been, he didn't want to wake up every bloodsucker in the building.

Inside, the house was cool and dark as the inside of a cave. The damp air carried with it a musty, earthy smell, laced with the faintest undercurrent of decay. The only sound in this still gloom was his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, and the creak of rotting floorboards beneath his feet. Squinting, Vinny could make out the vague shapes of crumbling walls, of floorboards ripped up to expose the bare earth beneath, of plants bursting through the walls. He took a step forwards, and stumbled over a chunk of fallen rubble.

Ah, this was no good. How was he supposed to see vampires coming if he couldn't even see where he was going? He reached up to his mouth, pulling out the match that always sat there, and struck it against his breastplate. It flickered into brief, phosphorescent light, casting fitful shadows on the walls. Vinny looked around. Yes, the house was large, but it was also derelict. Most of the internal walls had come crashing down years ago, and it seemed a wonder that rest was still standing. There certainly didn't seem to be any places for vampires to hide.

He let himself relax, just by a fraction. Alright. He was wrong. This wasn't the place. Perhaps by the time he found the actual house, the rest of them would have dealt with everything. Perhaps his luck was changing after-all. His match flickered out. That didn't matter. It wasn't as if there was anything lurking in the shadows in here. He breathed a faint sigh of relief, and made his way to the light streaming in from the front door.

And caught his foot on something, going flying across the floor.

Groaning softly, he fumbled in his pockets, lighting up another match, and peering through the gloom for the offending object. He looked down, to the hard shape he could feel under his foot.

It was the iron ring that opened a huge, wooden trap-door. A trap-door that seemed remarkably clean and well-maintained, compared to the rest of the decaying house. A trap door from which seeped the stench of soil and decay.

Vinny sighed.

Of course.

He pulled himself to his feet, and grabbed the door by the ring. With effort, he managed to heave it open, letting out a sickening blast of stale air. Below, in the light of his match, loomed a long stone staircase. He gulped, and felt for the reassuring weight of his bag, where a stash of bombs nestled. There, amid the little round charges, tangled up amid a mass of fuses, was his stash of magnesium flares. He lit the fuse with the last flicker of life left in his match, the flare sparking into showers of brilliant white sparks. Then, legs slightly shaky, he began the long, slow climb into the stinking darkness.

Down, endlessly down. The hatch above was nothing more than a slightly lighter patch above him. Below was an endless ocean of darkness, parting as he descended into a vast chamber. He shuddered: with each step, the air grew colder, the stink worse. Over-head, the vaulted ceiling stretched, dripping with stalac…stalag…whatever those pointy things on cave roofs were. Mole would know. He'd have to ask him when he got back. Now the light of the flare was peeling back the darkness, and he could make the floor of the chamber. It was wide, made up of grey flagstones, smeared with mud from countless dirty footsteps.

It was also dotted with innumerable coffins.

Vinny shuddered, finally stepping down onto the cold stone floor. From the looks of it, this place had once been a cellar, only now, instead of storing wine, it was storing vampires. Vinny stepped forward, his footsteps seeming incredibly loud in the silence, his breathing cacophonic, now he was the only one doing it. The lid of the nearest coffin was ajar. With trembling fingers, he slid the lid back, and peered inside.

Inside laid a young man, no older than 30, apparently sleeping peacefully. His face was pale, but smooth and youthful, his hair glossy and dark, his lips pink and full. Quite frankly, Vinny noted, this sleeping man looked healthier than he did at the moment. The only things that marred this peaceful image were the fact that this attractive young man was lying in a coffin stuffed with damp soil, unmoving and un-breathing. Grave-dirt was caked under his fingernails, smeared on his bare feet, seeping into his clothing. His whole body gave off the musty smell of decay. Vinny slid the lid back on.

Yeah. This was the place alright.

He propped his flare up against the base of the staircase, lighting up a few more and placing them at the base of the coffins. Well, if these vampires were all sleeping soundly, this made his job a whole lot easier. All he had to do was stick a charge in each coffin, wire them up to a fuse, light it, then get out before it blew.

All without any of the vampires waking up.

Simple, really.

* * *

_This chapter is pretty heavy on Audrey, Mole and Vinny. Given that my last fic had Milo and Kida doing most of the cool stuff, I thought that this one should let these three shine a bit, as they're all very cool characters with interesting specialties. _

_I promise that the next chapter will actually contain vampires. Conscious ones._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Mind Games**

Audrey picked her way through the tangled garden of the old house, thorns catching at her torn and scuffed overalls. Mole stumped along beside her, eyes locked on the rotting stone walls looming above the two of them.

"I don't like the look of this." Audrey whispered, as they made their way to the door, which lay ominously ajar.

"Me neither. Zhis limestone is in terrible condition."

Carefully, Audrey pushed the door open. It gave a long, groaning creak. Of course it creaked. Creepy doors always creaked. Tentatively, she stepped inside. Why was she being so cautious? That darn door had probably woken every vampire in the place.

There was a burst of yellowish light in the corner of her vision as Mole switched his light on. The inside of the building came into focus under this harsh glow: the floor strewn with rubble, the roof caved in, most of the inside walls gone.

"I don't know about you, but even if I was a vampire, I wouldn't wanna live here." She hissed, peering around. "This place is a mess."

She picked her way over the rubble, searching the ruins. Mole's headlight swung around as he did the same.

"Wait! Listen! Do you hear that!?" Mole's voice was an urgent whisper. Audrey froze. For a moment, she couldn't hear anything, nor see anything, apart from the ruined walls. Then she heard them. Footsteps, soft on the creaking floor. She inched closer to Mole. Her hand reached into her overalls, tightened around her stake.

Then she saw her emerge, a girl no older than Audrey herself, gliding out of the darkness, into their little circle of electric light. She…she was beautiful. So beautiful that Audrey was stunned for a moment. Her hand loosened its grip on her stake: she didn't need it. This girl was wonderful, she knew that instantly, knew that she was kind, and good, and that she dearly, dearly wanted to be this girl's friend.

She smiled, her fear giving way to warm relief. How could she have ever wanted to hurt her, when she was everything Audrey wasn't, better in every way? Look at her: the youngest daughter of a father who had so desperately wanted sons, struggling desperately to be something she could never be. Who was she, standing here in these ugly overalls and boots, pretending to be the son her pappy had always wanted? Too weak to be a man, too coarse and ugly to ever be a woman. It was a wonder her friends even tolerated her, when she was just a teenager, struggling to act like an adult, when she was just a little girl surrounded by geniuses and experts. Yes, they would be better off without her, and she would be better off with this girl, this beautiful girl with raven curls, and skin like marble, and a shining white smile. This wonderful girl would never laugh at her behind her back, never make her feel small. She would forgive her for being so small, and weak, and ugly compared to her. She could trust this girl, this girl who was coming forwards now, ivory hand outstretched, warm smile glinting on her face…

Wait…something was wrong. Why was she thinking like this? Of course her pappy loved her. Of course her friends cared about her. Why was she so doubtful? Of course she was a good engineer, an expert even. Why did her head feel so fuzzy, and why was it so hard to make her thoughts do what she wanted them to?

Now the beautiful girl was close, so close, and Audrey could see her wide, sparkling eyes, filled with kindness and innocence. She could see her hand reach out for her, see her mouth open, see white teeth bared. What did she have to do, again? Ah, yes.

Her hand balled into a fist.

Her fist slammed the girl right in the side of her beautiful head.

The girl fell, knocked off balance, Audrey on top of her, and for a moment, she was sure that she could see the beautiful veneer flicker, see something else writhing beneath. But there was no time to wonder: a vice-like grip closed on her arm, so strong Audrey expected to hear the bone splinter at any moment. The pain drove away the last shred of confusion: with her free hand, Audrey reached into her pockets, bringing out the little spritzer-bottle of holy water, and squirted a stream into the girls face.

The grip loosened, with an unnatural shriek of pain. There was an awful sizzling, and the stench of decay filled Audrey's nose. Now she was reaching inside her overalls, as the girl writhed on the floor, bringing out the sharp, silver-tipped stake, wielding it high above her head. For a moment the girl's eyes met Audrey's, for a moment, doubt started to cloud her mind again. Then she gritted her teeth, and brought the stake crunching down through the vampire's ribs, thick and clotted blood spurting, the body convulsing, then falling still. Audrey could swear that as the body stopped moving, she heard something go whistling past her, into the darkness.

Audrey sank to her knees. She was exhausted, mind still foggy, her clothes and skin covered with stinking blood. She put a hand to her forehead. Her thoughts were slowly becoming less tangled, thank goodness. It was getting easier to think.

From behind, there was a low groan, and a dull thump. She looked around. Mole had slumped down onto his hands and knees. She got to her feet, somewhat unsteadily, and shuffled over to him. She forced a smirk.

"Well. I got her." She said, resting a hand on Mole's back. "She got into your head too, huh?"

Mole nodded mutely. He climbed to his feet, and fiddled with his goggles, but not before Audrey noticed the faintest trace of tears leaking out from under one of the lenses.

"It was horrible." He said, dusting himself off. "All zhose horrible thoughts. Was zhis what it was like with ze Kraken?"

"Yeah. Well, kinda."

When the Kraken had taken over her thoughts…well, back then she'd described the sensation as "like drowning". All her will had drained away, her mind dominated utterly by some presence far, far more powerful then she was. Everything had faded away into cold, dark oblivion, and she had remembered nothing more until she'd woken up freezing, soaked in seawater, and surrounded by her anxious friends. This time…this time she remembered everything. She…she had been so convinced, so sure that what she was doing was right, until she was inches from death. What if she hadn't been able to snap out of it? What if she'd just walked straight into that girl's mouth? No. No good thinking about it now. She hadn't, that was the important thing.

She forced a smile, and patted Mole on the head.

"Ah well. At least we know there's a mind in there to effect."

For once, there was no irritable reply, no protest. He nodded, and turned his lamp to the floor, goggles clicking as he scrutinised the ground. Audrey wondered just what he was looking at, what tiny changes in the muddy boards had caught his attention. What thoughts and memories and fears that encounter had stirred up. Ah well. Let him get on with it. Let him distract himself doing what he did best. She needed her stake back.

She walked over to what remained of the girl, a shard of wood skewering her chest. She wasn't beautiful anymore, that was for sure. Looking down at the body, Audrey estimated that it was…ooh, at least a year old, possibly more, leathery grey skin stretched over yellowed bones, her funeral gown rotting and papery. Ah well. Age took its toll on everyone. She grabbed the slippery stake and yanked it out, wiping off the stale, congealed slick. Great. She was covered in blood, and standing around in a place full of vampires. Things just kept getting better.

"Audrey. I believe zhat Vinny has been here." Mole whispered from across the room.

"What makes you think that?"

"Zhere are imprints matching his shoes in ze sediment, along with traces of ash, and leaf litter from ze surrounding forest. Also, zhere is zhis." He held up a spent, blackened match, glinting in the light of his lamp.

"Great." Audrey looked around the barren house. "Can you tell where he's hiding from his footprints too?"

"Hmm… Looking at ze pressure patterns, ze distribution of ze soil grains…"

"Hey, I was just kidding, y'know…"

Mole wasn't listening. He was fully absorbed now, his wide smile back, eyes locked on the floor. He walked over to the doorframe, and pointed downwards.

"He entered ze building here." He began to trace Vinny's steps, walking to the centre of the room. "He was moving slowly, probably due to tiredness. He looked around: see how ze soil has formed little peaks?" He gleefully pointed at an indistinguishable mound of mud. "He stumbled over zhis piece of rubble. It has been moved from its snug resting place in ze mud. Zhen it seems he turned back and retraced his steps. Yes, he headed back towards ze door, and…"

Mole's voice trailed off. The trail had led him to the edge of a gaping hole in the floor. Audrey came over, peering over his shoulder as he shone his light down into the darkness. Below, a stony staircase descended into the yawning darkness.

"I dunno what you do when you're messing with dirt, but you can keep doing it." Said Audrey unable to keep a trace of admiration from creeping into her voice. She peered down into the darkness. Was…was that a faint flicker of light down there? "Well. You discovered it. You first."

Mole smiled widely, his foot already on the first step.

"Merci, mademoiselle."

A shadow fell across the corner of Audrey's vision. It wasn't much, but her mind was already on edge, her sense already sharpened by fear. She tuned, and felt the sharpness of fear shoot through her again. Advancing through the darkness, coming silently towards them, were two shadowy figures.

"Look out, Mole! We've got company!"

Her fingers tightened around her stake again.

* * *

Vinny reached into his bag, fingers selecting one of the little garlic-stuffed bombs with loving care. The bag was getting light, just a few of the special anti-vampire charges remaining. Good thing this was the last coffin: now all he had left was a couple of dynamite sticks, some magnesium flares, gunpowder, nitro-glycerine, and one 5kg industrial mining charge. That was barely enough to get through the weekend.

He placed the round, silvery bomb at the base of the coffin. Practised hands unwound a length of fuse from his bag, fixed it to the charge, and snipped it off with a pair of pliers, linking it up to the main bundle. There. Now he could light the lot in one go, and get out of this place. He was gonna need to: this amount of firepower could bring the whole place down on his head.

He took the match he had been chewing, somewhat nervously on, from his mouth, and struck it against the wall. The fuse sparked into life at the flame's touch, the wonderful sharp smell filling the air. Vinny headed for the stairs, at a brisk pace. There was no need to run, but he didn't exactly want to hang around, either. He picked his way through row after row of silent coffins. Explosives or not, he was going to be glad to get out of this place.

Something creaked loudly. He jumped, despite himself, heart hammering. Eh, this creepy old house was getting to him. The sooner he was out in the fresh air, the better. He quickened his pace, through the motionless boxes, over the filthy floor. 2222

In the very corner of his vision, something moved.

Behind him, the creaking became louder. Then, unspeakably loud in the silence, came the sound of something clattering to the floor. Fear beginning to tighten in his throat, Vinny peered over his shoulder.

They were opening. The coffins were opening.

He broke into a run, as the creaking became a symphony of shrieking wood, as the sound of coffin lids hitting the floor became cacophonic. Pallid hands were stretching into the air. The scent of decay was strong enough to choke him.

Icy hands were clutching at him, dragging him back, dragging him down. He was thrown to the floor, back colliding hard with the filthy flagstones, and they were there, looming over him. He thrashed, trying to break their vice-like grip, trying to writhe free. He had to get out, before they drained him dry, before the whole place came crumbling down. One of his feet connected with a face. One of his fists drove into a cold, hard body. It made as much difference as punching a brick wall.

They closed over him, sharp nails nicking his skin, their beautiful faces looming. Now he could see deep into their eyes, their sparkling eyes, and his panic suddenly began to melt away. What was the point in struggling, really? He was outnumbered, overwhelmed. Fighting back would only make it slower, more agonising. He let himself relax, his body softening into the embrace of countless clutching arms. In a way, it was a relief. Life was hard. Life was painful. It was far better, far easier just to let go, to let them take him, to let them take all the pain away.

Yes, this was how it should be. Far better to die now, and nourish these beautiful creatures with his blood. The thought made him smile, as the freezing hand pinned his down. He shuddered, not with fear this time, but anticipation. Sharp nails sliced into his cheek as one of them forced his head back, the pain exquisite, and he closed his eyes, feeling an icy face draw close to his neck. His heart fluttered, his breathing shallow and rapid. Yes. This was what he wanted. This was how it should be. This was the wonderful moment his whole life had been leading up to. He craved those teeth in his neck, longed for the sharp pain that would take him to blissful oblivion.

And as those cold white teeth touched his throat, as his body twitched with the ecstasy of anticipation, it came. Quiet at first, then loud enough to shake the chamber to its very foundations, as the world became a flurry of heat and light, and flying shrapnel. A deep, wonderful, rumbling sound.

_BOOM._


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Collapse**

Audrey's breathing was shallow with fear, her sweat-slicked hand tight around her stake. Ahead, approaching through the darkness, came two shadowy figures. Her body tensed. She could do this. She could take one of them out, before they had a chance to get into her head again. Hopefully, Mole could deal with the other one. They were close now, the nearest reaching its hands out towards her.

Now.

She lunged forwards, stake held high, glinting in the light. As she did so, the other figure leapt towards her, throwing her to the ground. The stake flew from her hand and clattered across the floor. She gasped, winded, and struggled under their powerful grip.

"Get off of her, you blood-sucker!" Mole's voice came shrieking through the darkness. A moment later, Mole himself came flying out of the shadows, grabbing Audrey's attacker around the neck, his headlamp swinging wildly as the three of them struggled. In the flashing light, she could make out snatches of her opponent's face, see messy brown hair, see a thin face, see huge round glasses glinting in the light…

"Milo!?" She gasped, pushing him off of her, and trying to get her breath back.

"Audrey?" He stopped his struggling. Mole, who was currently holding him in a headlock, turned his lamp onto the other shadowed figure. Kida came into focus, her white hair wild, tangled with leaves and twigs.

Audrey gave a long, shuddering sigh of relief. Then she collected herself, and gave Milo a sharp punch in the shoulder.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"That's for giving me the fright of my life." She growled, getting to her feet and dusting herself off. "Creeping about in the dark like that."

Kida laid a restraining hand on her shoulder.

"I would appreciate it if you did not hit my Milo."

Audrey gave Milo a mock-glower.

"You're lucky your girlfriend's here to protect you."

Milo crawled to his feet, easing himself out of Mole's grasp.

"Well, at least we're all together now…" He said, rubbing the side of his head. "Wait. Where's Vinny?"

_BOOM._

His voice was almost drowned out by a deep, rumbling explosion from somewhere deep below them. Smoke and dust came billowing out of the hatch, knocking Mole off his feet again, and filling the air with choking, garlic-scented smoke. A few chunks of stone came tumbling down from the roof.

"…I guess that answers our question." Milo managed to say between coughs. "…We'd better see if he's alright."

"We'd better see how many piece of him we can find, more like." Said Audrey, only half-joking as she followed Milo towards the steps. They followed him into the smoke-choked darkness, steps ringing heavily as they descended, the only light coming from Mole's lamp, and some strange flickering source far below.

Slowly, the room came into focus, the smoke thinning, their steps bringing them closer to the bottom. A thin trickle of dust and broken stone was falling from the ceiling, like heavy hailstones. The floor was strewn with grey ashes, black shards of charred wood, and…little white things? It took Audrey a moment to realise what they were: bleached white bones scattered across the floor.

Now they had reached the bottom of the stairs, her boots sending up a plume of soft grey ash. She scanned the room, the others doing the same, fanning out across the room. On the plus side, at least all the vampires were dead. Hopefully, Vinny wasn't so easily vaporised.

A soft cough came from somewhere on the ash-coated floor. She swung her gaze around. There. There was a suspicious lump in the ashy floor, one that was stirring slightly.

"Hey guys!" She called. "I think I found him."

She shuffled over to the lump. Yes, it was certainly Vinny. Vinny lying flat on his back, his skin and clothing grey with ash, his hair and moustache singed. The plate armour he wore over his chest was blackened and dented, the jumper beneath it smoking faintly. His heavy-lidded eyes stared, unseeing, at the ceiling. Audrey knelt down beside him, as the others clustered around.

"Hey, Vinny." She said, shaking him slightly. "Can you hear us? Anyone home?"

His mouth opened slightly, a few incoherent words and a wisp of smoke escaping.

"…Yeah, that'd be my response too." Audrey said, with a shrug. "Hey! Ow!"

Mole prodded her hard in the shoulder. His beady eyes were locked on the roof, and the ever-increasing stream of falling stones, his other hand pointing up at the widening cracks. Audrey felt that old, familiar sinking in the pit of her stomach.

"Ze ceiling! Ze degraded limestone cannot take ze pressure anymore! Zhis whole place is going to collapse!"

"Right!" Milo knelt down, and slung one of Vinny's arms over his shoulder. "Let's get him out of here!"

Kida grabbed the other arm, and together they hefted Vinny up into something resembling a standing position. The four of them half-carried, half-dragged his limp body up the staircase, the house beginning to groan and sway in an alarming fashion, his feet bashing against every step on the way up.

Finally, they emerged from the hatch, a panting tangle of limbs. Now, thick chunks of rock were falling, the timbers splintering with an ear-splitting crunch, the whole structure starting to skew and lean. Audrey wasn't an architect, but she knew a house making those sort of noises wasn't in a healthy state.

"Move it!" She yelled, although her voice was lost in the cacophony of crashing stone. It didn't matter: none of them needed much more encouragement. They crashed through the door, stumbling across the garden, putting as much distance as possible between and the flying wreckage as possible. They didn't stop until they had made it out of the tangled, thorny garden, and the sound of falling stone had given one final crunch, then settled into silence.

Gasping, Audrey loosened her grip on Vinny. The others did the same, dropping him down on the sparse grass, slumping down themselves and catching their breath. She looked back over her shoulder. The old house was barely recognisable now: most of it had fallen into the basement, only a few chunks of wall still standing, jutting out of the rubble. A shroud of dust fell softly on the remains.

"Well. On the plus side, I don't think any vampire is going to survive that." Milo panted.

A low groan came from behind her. She turned, to see Mole anxiously leaning over Vinny, shining his headlamp into his face. Obby was busying himself licking the ash from his shoes. Slowly, shakily Vinny reached a hand up and rubbed his head, his eyes flickering open, then immediately scrunching closed again.

"Acck…"

"Vinny!? Can you hear me!?" Mole demanded, prodding him insistently in the forehead.

"Yeah. Unfortunately." He slowly sat up, blinking heavily, ashes tumbling off him. "Urgh. That…that was weird. I don't wanna do that again anytime soon. Soon being, like, y'know, ever."

Audrey shuffled over, and patted him on the shoulder.

"You alright?"

"…Yeah. I think. Though there's gotta be a better way to wake up…"

Audrey wrapped her arms around him, and gave him a crushing hug.

"I'm just glad you're okay." She said, giving a final squeeze and releasing him. She pointed down the mountain, Vinny following her gaze down the tree-lined slope, down to the misty village below. "Because I'll be damned if we're gonna carry you all the way back down."

* * *

_Just to warn you: on Saturday, I'm heading off on holiday, and will be gone for a week. So there might be a longer-than-usual delay between this chapter and the next. But when I get back, I promise oodles of updates, and the thrilling conclusion !_

_(Conclusion may be slightly less thrilling than advertised.)_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Mind over matter**

The night was drawing in close by the time they finally stumbled into the village, darkness building at one edge of the sky, an ashy-pink sunset still sinking at the other side of the horizon. Milo wasn't interested, at the moment. He had stopped looking at the scenery hours ago, instead concentrating on the burning tiredness in his legs, the ache in his feet, and the foggy exhaustion in his head. All he was concerned about was putting one foot in front of the other, getting home, getting all of his team home.

And just look at them: Kida and he were a mess, hair matted with twigs and leaf-litter, their clothing covered in dirt, and wolf-slobber, and ash, and traces of blood. Mole was caked in more filth than usual, his goggles dented and scratched, his clothing filled with rips and tears. Audrey was similarly muddy, her face slightly bruised, her skin scratched, and her ripped overalls sticky with dark, stinking blood. Vinny…Vinny gave the impression that he'd been recently barbequed. All of them were exhausted, plodding along in unusual silence. Only Obby seemed to have any energy left, scuttling along with his usual, open-mouthed grin.

Was…was that wolf fur still stuck between his teeth?

Well, they were back, that was the important thing. He hadn't gotten anyone killed, or badly hurt, or turned into one of the undead. The windows were still barred, he noticed, the shutters still closed. It didn't matter all that much to him: all he wanted to do now was take a bath and curl up in bed. Looking at the rest of the team, he reckoned the feeling was universal. Well, perhaps scratch the "bath" part in Mole's case.

It was a relief to find himself at the door to the Vaduva's house. This time, he wasn't shy about knocking, rapping his knuckles hard against the old gnarled wood. This time, Mrs. Vaduva wasn't so reluctant to open the door.

"Mr. Thatch, you're back!" She gasped, her eyes widening as she took in the sorry state of the team, her gaze lingering on Audrey's blood-stained overalls. "Good heavens, are you all alright? What happened to you up there? Oh, look at me, keeping you here and asking you questions… Come inside, come inside. You must all be exhausted."

"Thanks, Mrs. Vaduva." Milo said, with a weak smile.

They shuffled in, groaning slightly, Mrs. Vaduva bolting the door behind them. Vinny immediately flopped into one of the invitingly squishy armchairs. Audrey plonked down opposite him, and wrenched off her boots, a remarkable amount of soil cascading out. Both Mole and Obby flopped down on the carpet, in front of the fire. With a grateful sigh, Milo and Kida took their places on the plump, leathery sofa.

"So. How did it go?" Mrs. Vaduva asked. Her bony body almost trembled with terrible, nervous anticipation.

"Eh, I don't think they'll be making trouble any time soon." Said Vinny.

"Only because you brought the whole place down on top of them." Muttered Audrey, jerking a thumb towards Vinny. "Talk about overkill…"

Mrs. Vaduva gave a wide, almost involuntary smile of relief, her tense body relaxing.

"Oh, thank heaven. I…I can't thank you enough, I really can't. It means so much to me, to be able to rear what remains of my family in peace." Her expression softened into one of concern. "Are you all alright? Have any of you been hurt?"

Vinny shrugged.

"I've had worse. Didn't get thrown through anything that time." He sighed, and reached a hand up to his face. "Although these eyebrows did have sentimental value."

There was a low creaking of floorboards from the rear of the house, and Silvia emerged from the shadows, padding in on soft and grubby feet. Immediately, both Mole and Obby snapped to attention, going from sprawling on the floor to standing up, gazing at her adoringly, in a matter of instants.

"Oh. You're all back." She said, surveying the crowd flopped around the living room. Her face broke into a smile. "Wonderful!"

"It was hard work, mademoiselle." Said Mole, smiling widely, eyes slightly unfocused. "But knowing I was doing it for you made it a pleasure."

Audrey rolled her eyes. Silvia, Milo noticed, smirked slightly.

"Ah, Silvia my dear." Mrs. Vaduva rose from her chair, bony frame unfolding. "Would you mind getting the kettle boiling? It's cold out there, and whilst neither of us care for hot drinks, I'm sure our guests would relish the idea."

"Yes mother." She nodded, and slid silently out of the room.

Milo leaned back, feeling the softness of the sofa behind him, feeling the warmth of Kida curled against him. After the long climb and long descent, all he wanted to do now was sleep. Yes, a warm and pleasant sleepiness was spreading over him, soothing the ache in his legs. Darkness was gathering outside, the sky a deep velvet blue, and in here the fire crackled warmly. Mrs. Vaduva was talking, but it was increasingly hard to keep track of what she was saying, of what words her soft voice was speaking. Through his half-closed lids, he saw movement. He opened his eyes a crack more, to see Obby and Mole go scuttling from the room. The rest of the team, he saw, had already given way to sleep, Audrey snoring loudly, Vinny slumped in his chair. He could feel Kida's head fall, warm and heavy, onto his shoulder. His eyes burned, the lids heavy. He let them nod shut.

Now he was cocooned in warm darkness, drifting off into the blissful oblivion of sleep. And still, the words meaningless to his slumbering brain, Mrs. Vaduva talked:

"…And of course, Silvia and I don't expect you to fly home immediately. You can stay for tomorrow night as well, if you like. It's the least we can do for you, really, after what you've done for us. You can stay for longer, if you like. You can stay for as long as you like. Stay forever, for all we care. …You're asleep now, aren't you Mr. Thatch? You're all asleep. Dead to the world. …Wonderful."

* * *

Mole crept through the corridors of the house, heavy boots thumping on the floorboards, following Obby through the darkness. He had been poised on the brink of what had promised to be a lovely long sleep, when the lava dog had suddenly gotten to his many feet, and cocked its head as though listening to some faint and far-off sound. Then, with an almost frenzied urgency, he had scurried from the room. And, curiosity winning over tiredness, Mole had followed him.

"What is it? What have you found?" His voice was a whisper. Obby gave no reply.

There was a faint musty, earthy smell in the air, Mole noticed, a smell he knew intimately. The sweet smell of soil. He flicked his lamp on, and turned his gaze to the floor. There, amid the smooth wooden boards, were the faintest imprints of bare and dirty feet, leaving crumbs of a strange, mica-encrusted loam, completely foreign to the region.

"Fascinating…"

Head bent, the sweet mustiness of dirt filling his nose, he followed the trail down the dimly-lit corridor. The trail that led him, to his slight surprise, to the back door of the house, where Obby sat, whining urgently. Despite the heavy iron lock, and the many sturdy bolts, the door was ajar. It creaked open under his touch, the icy night air sharp on his face. Despite his heavy coat, he shuddered slightly.

The garden was silent and silver in the moonlight, the myriad colours of the flowers all turned to shining white under the pale glow. Not a breath of air stirred them. The only movement was Mole's slow, curious progress, and the cold twinkling of the stars above. His nervous breath rose in foggy plumes. In this silence, in this still, silvery gloom, Obby and him seemed to be the only living, breathing things.

Those small, bare footsteps led them down an avenue of silent and ghostly flowers. The sweet, earthy smell was strong, tainted now with the faintest trace of decay. There, beyond gloomy rows of roses, glittering in the starlight, was the door. A heavy trap-door, set amid bare soil. With a creeping sensation of fear, Mole realised he'd seen this sort of thing before.

Only, last time, the door had been closed.

Now, however, the door yawned wide and black, a gaping void that swallowed up a set of roughly-hewn steps. From the darkness, billowing on the cold air, came the creeping scent of mouldy and poisonous earth, of rotting things, of stale blood, strong enough to make even Mole retch. For a moment, he reeled at the brink of the abyss, his head swimming. Then, with a strangled, urgent whine, Obby raced past him, diving into the darkness.

"Wait! What are you doing!?"

It was too late to reach for the lava dog: his stubby purple shape was swallowed by darkness, leaving Mole utterly alone under the icy starlight.

"Come back!"

Mole stumbled into the darkness after him, groping his way in the dim lamplight. He was used to descending deep into the bowels of the Earth: he didn't much feel the cold, and he was used to feeling his way through the soothing darkness below the ground. He had never quite understood how anyone could feel anxious when they were safe under the ground, cocooned on all sides by rock and soil. His boots were heavy on the roughly hewn steps, his lamp throwing a huge and grotesque shadow before him. There was no fear in the descent itself, in climbing downwards, ever downwards into darkness. No, his heart was hammering against his ribs for a different reason: a terrible fear of what waited for him when this climb ended.

Abruptly, his vision filled with light. He blinked in the sudden glare, squinting his eyes and reaching up to adjust his goggles. There, burning below him, were a multitude of torches, flickering in infernal colours. And, as he became accustomed to the light, he finally saw what was below him.

And his stomach lurched slightly at the sight.

There, looming below, stretching into darkness on either side as far as the eye could see, was a vast chamber, dug roughly out of the earth by a multitude of hands, hands of varying sizes and varying skills, Mole realised. In this great, crude, artificial cavern, were a vast, vast multitude of coffins, resting in rows on the bare earth. As he descended further, he could see there must be at least a hundred of them, ranging in size from vast ebony caskets to...here he shuddered all over…a tiny white coffin, no more than two feet long.

Trembling slightly, he quickened his pace, reaching the foot of the stairs. An avenue of spluttering torches stretched on either side of him, their smoke stinging his nose as he crept between them, weaving through the innumerable ranks of coffins. There was a tight, twisting feeling in his stomach. His heart beat a terrible, urgent rhythm. His eyes were locked on the centre of the chamber.

Because there, sat gracefully at the edge of a crudely-carved coffin, filled to the brim with a strange, mica-filled loam, sat Silvia, one pale hand stroking Obby on his broad, purple snout. She smiled serenely, the sharp tips of her teeth glittering in the torchlight.

"What took you so long?" She said, with a gentle giggle.

"You!" Mole's pointed a trembling and accusing finger at her. "You're one of them!"

A low growl rose from Obby's throat, his beady eyes narrowing and fixing on Mole with an unnatural fury and intensity. Mole shuffled backwards, despite himself.

"N-nice lava-doggie…" He muttered, hands held out defensively. Now, Silvia was rising from her perch, gliding towards him. "No, go away!"

"Go away?" She smirked softly. "Why would you want that? You don't think I'm going to hurt you, do you?"

To his intermingled horror and delight, she reached out and cupped one of his stubbly cheeks, her hand cold enough to make him shiver. She forced his gaze upwards, into her sparkling olivine eyes. A faint smile spread across his face, fear starting to melt away. No. Of course she wasn't going to hurt him. He was safe here, with her.

"There, that's better." Her hand trailed upwards, and patted him on the head. "You see? You love me really. You both do."

Yes. Yes, of course he loved her. She was the most beautiful woman in the world: it seemed to radiate off of her, like coiling smoke. She was so beautiful, and so powerful, and so kind. Of course he loved her. Everyone should love her.

Her bloodless hand rested on his head, so cold that he could feel it through his thick leather cap. She pushed down, sending him falling forwards onto his knees. Yes, this is where he belonged, kneeling in the dirt before her. He was a disgusting creature, fat, filthy, dirt-eating. Look at him: the last and least-wanted of four sons, always the "difficult" child, always the disappointment. He couldn't go five minutes without doing something socially inappropriate, something that embarrassed everyone he was with. He was a soiled, stinking abomination.

Some part of his dazed and foggy brain realised that he had felt these horrible thoughts before. Yes, he had felt like this only a few hours ago, although the memory was growing hazy. He remembered darkness, and cold air. And Audrey. Audrey, who delighted in making him the butt of every joke.

Who was he kidding? They all made fun of him: Audrey, Sweet, Milo, Vinny…even Kida. He was a walking punch-line, an embarrassment to the whole team. If he wasn't so good at his job, they would have dropped him like a piece of hot pumice. The only one on the team who liked him was Obby, and that was only because he smelled of sediment.

"Shh. Shh, it's okay." Silvia bent down to his level, patting him on the head again. "You don't need them. You don't need anyone. You've got me, remember?"

Yes. Yes, of course. Why was he worrying? Why on earth would he care about anyone but Silvia? Wonderful, kind Silvia. Everyone else paled in comparison to her. She would never laugh at him.

"There we go." She said, sliding a freezing hand under his chin, and nudging him to his feet. "I knew you'd see sense if you got to know me."

"…Oui, mademoiselle." He managed to say, mouth dry. "Everything…everything is much clearer now."

The only thing that mattered was Silvia.

The only one who would ever love him was Silvia.

He wanted nothing more than to please Silvia.

Silvia smiled, wide and sharp and beautiful.

"Wonderful." She leaned forwards, and gently flicked the dim, yellow light of his headlamp off. "Well, come on, my little Moley. We've got work to do."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Oof!"

Milo awoke to the sharp jab of Kida's elbow, burying itself in his skinny stomach. He blinked blearily in the flickering light, straightening his skewed glasses, and peered down at her. She stirred, with a faint mumbling, but seemed to be sleeping soundly, despite her wandering elbows.

The firelight was dying, flickering faintly. Sleepily, Milo noticed that Audrey and Vinny were still sleeping, and that Obby and Mole were still gone. He yawned. The dim light was soothing, and there was nothing quite as tempting as settling down next to Kida and drifting off again. He shuffled into a comfy position, slid an arm around Kida's warm shoulders, and closed his eyes.

And, from somewhere not far off, insistently loud in the quiet, came the sound of Mrs. Vaduva's voice, hushed and agitated. The conversation was muffled and indistinct, but with nothing else to occupy his mind, Milo found the words filtering into his mind without much control.

"I can't believe you've done this!" Mrs. Vaduva's voice rang with fury. "I told you to keep a low profile, and what do you do? Lure one of them down to the cellar and show them everything!"

"Why shouldn't I?" This was Silvia's voice. Louder. Petulant. "When you took me in a month ago, you said I'd be powerful. Beautiful. Adored. That I'd be able to break people's minds, and control animals, and bend steel with my hands. And what have I been doing for the past month? Washing linen, and making beds, and cooking dinner! If it was up to you, I'd never get to do anything fun!"

Milo's eyes flickered open. Had…had he heard correctly? Quietly, he slipped from the sofa, sliding his arm away without waking Kida, and tiptoed through the dining room. A chink of light shone through the kitchen door, blindingly bright against the gloom. Carefully, he crept to the chink, and peered through, putting his ear to the door.

"A month ago, you were a filthy little peasant girl, stuck in some back-water village. I lifted you out of the rabble. You want fun? You can have all the fun you want, when this is all over. Until then, if you value your brief, miserable existence, you _will_ stick to the plan!"

"You needn't worry, anyway." Silvia's voice was sullen. "I did a good job. His mind snapped like a twig. He's not going anywhere unless I say so."

"Of course it did. You've been wearing away at his mind since he arrived. It's a wonder none of them noticed, least of all him." A sigh. "Still, it's done now, and we'd better make the best of a bad job. He might be useful. Although it's rather unsavoury to play with ones food…"

"Eurgh. I'm not going to drink from _that._ I'll just snap his neck when I'm done with him."

"Well, make sure you throw his body to the subordinates, there's a good girl. There's no point in letting a whole eight pints go to waste when there are hungry mouths to feed."

There was a brief silence. Then Silvia broke the silence.

"…Why are you so afraid of them?"

"Sorry?"

"Why are you so afraid of the humans? Why are you so worried about sneaking about behind their backs? We're vampires! We can crush them in an instant!"

"Silvia dear… Firstly, these aren't just any humans: these are humans that have been specially assembled to kill our kind. Secondly, call me boring, but when faced with a screaming, flailing victim, or an unsuspecting sleeper, I prefer to drink in peace. And thirdly, when you can be weakened by someone opening a window, you quickly learn to err on the side of caution." A long sigh. "Still, there's a grain of truth in what you're saying. We _are_ vampires. It shouldn't be too hard to deal with them. And I daresay we may be forced to do things the old-fashioned way."

"Why's that?"

"Because Mr. Thatch has been listening outside the door for the last four minutes."

The door flew open, the burst of light blinding. An icy hand seized Milo by the throat, cutting off his scream, dragging him inside and throwing him to the floor. He gasped, and looked up at the tall, bony figure of Mrs. Vaduva. She was different now, although nothing about her had changed physically. Instead, something in Milo's brain insisted that she had suddenly become stunningly beautiful, and terrifyingly imposing.

"Silvia?" She said.

"Yes mother?"

"You've got your wish. I'll deal with Mr. Thatch. You take your little friends. You can have all the fun you want with the others."

* * *

Kida awoke to a sound she hoped she would never hear: Milo's scream, suddenly cut short. She jolted awake, a sharp bolt of dread running through her. Her heart pounded in her ears, the only sound now, apart from the dying fire. Had she really heard a scream? For a moment, looking around the dim and peaceful room, she wondered if she had dreamed it. But no: Audrey and Vinny were stirring now, and more chillingly, the space beside her was cold and empty.

"Milo!"

A faint glow cast itself on the floor of the dining room. Kida started towards it, only to freeze in her tracks: there, coming through the gloom, were faint figures. For a moment, she tensed. Then her eyes adjusted to the gloom, and she recognised the dim shape of Silvia, flanked on either side by Mole and Obby.

"Silvia? What is happening? Is everything alright? "

Silvia took the time to step into the living room before she replied. Mole and Obby followed her. There…there was something wrong about the way they followed slightly behind her, Kida noted, something about their shared expressions of blank adoration that made her uneasy.

"Oh yes. More than alright." Silvia said, a smile of pure glee spreading across her face. Uneasiness gave way to intermingled fear and rage at the sight of that smile. Even in the dim firelight, Kida could see the sharp teeth poking over Silvia's lips, see all pretence of a sweet and dutiful daughter drop away to reveal the parasite beneath.

"Blood-drinker! What have you done to Milo?" The words tore themselves out of her mouth, without her having much control over them.

She took a step towards Silvia, only to be stopped in her tracks by Obby. The lava dog threw himself in front of her, teeth bared, a low growl rising in his throat. Disturbingly, Mole did the same.

"Do not speak to her like zhat!" He spat, his squat body trembling. Never, in all the time Kida had known him, had she seen such an expression of fury and utter loathing. She shrank back an inch, despite herself.

"…What did you do to him!?" Audrey's voice came from somewhere behind Kida, the faint shapes of her and Vinny moving in the corner of Kida's vision. She daren't look behind: her eyes were still warily watching Silvia, and the lava dog that snarled at her feet.

"Obedient, aren't they?" Silvia smiled widely, and patted Mole on the head. "I didn't need to do much at all. It's easy to break the will of…lesser animals."

Warm rage was rising inside Kida. She could feel it inside her, coiling under her ribs, stronger than any fear. Who was this girl, standing here talking and taunting, flaunting her power over them, without a shred of dignity? It was obscene, to draw this out. More than that: every moment spent talking here was another moment without knowing if Milo was safe. Her fists clenched. If this girl wanted battle, then she was happy to oblige.

"You have our attention, blood-drinker." She growled. "I doubt you wish to settle things peacefully, so let us stop this talk. Face us now! I will show you how my people deal with things like you!"

To Kida's slight surprise, Silvia nodded.

"You're right. Enough talking. I've been looking forward to this." She glanced down at her two companions. "Alright boys. You heard her. Attack!"

At Silvia's command, Obby leapt for Kida's throat, a flash of dull purple. Kida leapt to the side, the snarling lava dog crashing to the floor. There was an enraged scream as Mole charged at Vinny, and a gleeful laugh as Silvia lunged for Audrey, but there was little time to take in the scene: Obby was scrambling to his feet, readying for another strike. Kida knew that if he managed to grip her in his jaws, she would be torn to pieces in a matter of minutes, that her only advantage against the lava dog was her speed and agility.

Obby lunged again, huge teeth snapping. Kida waited until the lava dog was mid-spring before vaulting over him, his body a blur of purple sailing beneath her. She landed lightly, and bolted for the stairs, hearing his heavy body hit the floor. She knew there was little she could do, unarmed as she was, to hurt a creature whose very bones and skin were infused with volcanic rock, but she could throw him off her trail. Her best chance was to out-run him, out-manoeuvre him, to rely on that same sturdy body to slow him down. Her feet pounded on the wooden steps. Behind her, Obby snarled.

She reached the landing just as heavy footsteps began to thump on the stairs. Ahead, the dark doorways of bedrooms stood open, and she darted into the first open door without hesitation. Inside, moonlight poured through the narrow window, illuminating the small room and casting dark shadows over the bunk-bed that jutted against the sloping roof. Now the heavy, scuttling steps had reached the top of the stairs. Quickly, Kida sprang up the ladder of the little wooden bunk, barely needing the steps at all, and pressed her back against the sloping roof, shrinking back as far as she could go. There. Now she was off the ground, her body wrapped in shadow. If she was lucky, Obby would pass her by. She held her breath, as his heavy panting drew closer.

There was no risk of him tracking her scent, she knew: a normally peaceable rock-eater had no need to sniff out prey, and a creature with flesh as hard and nourishing as stone had nothing to fear from predators. Neither did she fear him spotting her: even if she hadn't drawn back into the shadows, she knew that his vision was poor, his crystalline eyes barely needed down in the darkness of the lava caves. No, what she feared more was his ability to pick up on the tiniest of vibrations, the acute sense of touch and hearing that guided his kind through crushing molten rock, where sight and scent were useless. She knew that the "lava-dogs", as Milo had called them, could sense the faintest forewarnings of a stirring volcano, crawling out of the magma to escape the worst rages of the earth: her people had observed them for many years, using their behaviour as a warning. She was acutely aware of how her feet creaked on the bed-springs. The pulsing of blood in her ears was deafening, as she saw Obby's shadow creep towards the door. If he could sense the faintest warnings of an oncoming earthquake, her own heartbeat could betray her.

Obby's huge, blunt head peered through the door. Kida could feel her heart beat a rhythm against the inside of her ribs. He peered around the room with dim and beady eyes, an unearthly growl rumbling in his throat as he crawled inside. His dark, stumbling shape moved in the darkness. Kida could see him examine the thick rug on the floor, the heavy wooden chest in the corner, the moonlight streaming in through the window. Then, his broad snout turned towards the legs of the bed, the wooden frame wobbling beneath Kida's feet as he nudged it questioningly. Kida tensed. She could feel every muscle in her body strain to hold her position, to remain motionless. Her lungs burned, but she daren't risk a breath. Not yet.

Below her, the growling stopped.

For a moment, Obby was silent, his head tilted to one side. Questioning. Listening. Then his eyes roved upwards and locked onto Kida, the growl deepening into a low snarl. She let her breath out in a long, warm shudder. She could still make a leap for it, if she was lucky. She tensed, ready to make a break from the corridor, and below Obby did the same, getting ready to spring. Then Kida noticed how the bed-frame wobbled beneath her, how Obby was standing directly in the shadow of the heavy bed, and another plan came into her mind.

Her back braced against the sloping roof, Kida kicked out her feet, pressing against the wooden rails that surrounded the top bunk. She pushed hard with her legs, her whole body heaving, as Obby uncoiled. Then, with a loud creak, the bed toppled. Kida went flying backwards, hitting the wall and landing awkwardly. The heavy frame hit Obby mid-spring, and with an almighty crash, both went tumbling to the floor, Obby's shriek drowned out by splintering wood.

Kida crawled to her feet, somewhat stiffly. Obby whined and snarled, body writhing, claws scrabbling against the heavy bedframe. The blow would have barely hurt him, Kida knew, but as she had hoped, the falling frame had pinned him to the floor, the rails of the top bunk hitting him square across the chest. She picked her way over the fallen bed. Obby howled with rage as she slipped past, jaws snapping, froth collecting at the corners of his mouth.

"I am sorry, Obby. I did not wish to fight you." Said Kida. "But this for your own safety."

She slipped the bedroom door shut, feeling the heavy latch slide into place. The fallen bed would not hold him forever: sooner or later, he would be able to pull himself free, or scratch his way through the wood. Neither would the door last for all that long, but every inch between Obby and the rest of the house would buy them precious time. Hopefully, they would find a way to snap him out of this madness before then.

From the bedroom came Obby's muffled, echoing howls. From below came the dim sound of screams, of scrabbling, of shouting voices.

No time to worry about Obby. She needed to find Milo.

* * *

_Behold, the return of the Killer Obby! _

_This chapter was a tricky one to write. Firstly, I wanted to write Mrs. Vaduva and Silvia as distinct characters, with their own (eeevil) personalities, without making them too much of a focus. I wanted interesting villains, but not ones who shifted the focus onto themselves too much: they need motivation and personality, not their entire backstory laid bare. _

_Secondly, this chapter needed a lot of Kida, and I find it pretty hard to write from her point of view. I want to strike the balance between writing her as an 8000-year old Atlantean warrior, with all the experience and skill that entails, and making her an utter, super-competent Mary-Sue. I also worry about making her slightly archaic speech-pattern too over the top: she's an Atlantean Queen, not a Shakespeare character… But conversely I don't want to reduce her to nothing but Milo's hot, protective girlfriend. I've had her spend far too many chapters following him about, nodding silently at his suggestions. She needed to do something interesting around this point._

_Bonus fun fact! Animals with body parts re-enforced with rocky substances are surprisingly common in the sea. Sponges have bodies toughened with little shards of silicon ("spicules"), there is a deep-sea snail that builds itself a shell with a tough outer layer of iron pyrites ("fools-gold"), and chitons (flat, primitive slug-like creatures that spend their lives crawling over rocky seashores) have both metallic, magnetic teeth, and eyes made out of aragonite crystals. _


End file.
